


To Be Alone

by Dancing_Burnt_Toast



Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV), The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. References, Alpha Steve Rogers, Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Anal Sex, Beta Phil Coulson, Bottom Phil Coulson, Capsicoul - Freeform, Clint/Natasha if you squint, Consensual Sex, Crushes, Fanboy Phil Coulson, Humor, Knotting, M/M, Mating Cycles/In Heat, Omega Verse, Post-Avengers (2012), The Avengers (2012) Spoilers, Worldbuilding
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-02-28
Updated: 2015-02-28
Packaged: 2018-03-15 14:28:36
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,622
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3450518
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dancing_Burnt_Toast/pseuds/Dancing_Burnt_Toast
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Phil Coulson has been perfectly content with his new transfer. A problem pulls him away from his work, but fortunately, there is someone there to help.</p>
            </blockquote>





	To Be Alone

**Author's Note:**

> This fic is supposed to take place some point after The Avengers and some point after the Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. pilot. There are some brief references to characters from AOS at the beginning of the fic, but they are not mentioned later. Also, in this setting betas and omegas go into heat and betas have the ability to impregnate others as well as being impregnated (just in case you were wondering)

Of course Phil Coulson missed his teammates from The Bus. But he was glad the job transfer allowed his job to involve watching people engage in dangerous behavior more than being punched in the face at least once a week. Not that this job came without risks. It had killed him. Technically.  

Still, every few days he'd get a message from Skye. For example, a picture: Skye making a silly face, Simmons grinning, Fitz blinking just as the flash went off and May with a stone-faced expression (showing she didn’t choose to be in the picture). Skye often captioned these with things such as an impish _‘HAVING A GREAT TIME WITHOUT YOU AC’_ followed by a string of emojis. Phil looked at his phone and smiled, releasing a short exhale of breath through his nose, halfway between a chuckle and a sigh. They would be fine.

Phil was also glad he could let The Avengers know he was alive. He wasn’t sure what he expected when Nick Fury let him enter the room. Six wide pairs of eyes gawked at him for a moment while someone released an almost inaudible _“What the fuck.”_

Joy replaced this shock.

Clint Barton clasped his arm and gave him a nod of recognition, smiling.

Steve Rogers stared at him in surprise for a few moments longer than everyone else. He embraced him, “Thank you.”

Phil insisted that it was “no problem” and “anyone else would have done it.” He continued, saying far more than necessary. He hoped that Steve couldn’t feel how hot his face was.

Thor enveloped him in a suffocating hug which lifted him a couple inches of the ground. His voice boomed “Our friend, Phil Son of Coul, has returned. We must celebrate with a feast!” (Which they did, allowing Thor to try Mexican food for the first time. Tortillas confused him, but the evening had gone without a problem.)

Tony Stark, shockingly, took a break from smartassery for longer than two minutes. He said, almost gently, “It’s good to see you back, Phil.”

_______________________________

It was noon on a Thursday when everyone shuffled into a meeting room for a debriefing about the Avenger’s last mission. Phil wasn’t directly involved, providing him with the rare and tranquil moment of just listening. Fury wasn’t happy with the Avenger’s execution of the mission for whatever reason. Times such as these made Phil grateful that he wasn't involved.

Stark argued, arm akimbo. “We did ‘cause a considerable amount of damage’ to a water tower. But at least we made sure an entire park full of picnicking families didn't go into a full on panic."

Phil smirked to himself as Stark continued to quarrel with Fury. There was the occasional punctuation of a question from Thor. He asked them to explain what "picnics" and "state parks" were. Natasha and Clint stood maybe six feet away from him in the corner. One whispered a comment to the other before releasing quiet chuckles.

Phil checked his watch. Watching drama unfold among super-powered humans (and one demigod) was entertaining for only so long. The watch was tacky to his wrist from sweat and he noticed that he felt uncomfortably warm. Stark customized his A.I. powered climate control to keep rooms at the perfect temperature right down to the degree. Phil was baffled that Stark hadn’t already pulled out a wrench and insisted he fix it himself. But as he examined the room, he saw that temperature seemed to bother no one else. (That is if you excluded Bruce Banner, who often looked uncomfortable regardless of the functioning of a room’s A.C. system)

He shifted his weight from one foot to the other. He adjusted his cuff links. A bead of sweat trickled down his neck. His clothes felt tight. He felt moisture dripping from the inside of his legs. _Shit,_ he thought to himself. He was in heat.

He glanced towards the nearest exit, only using his eyes, and tried to make his way towards it in an inconspicuous manner. While he was leaving, Banner took a few steps towards him, asking “Coulson, are you all right?” his voice just above a whisper.

“I’m fine,” Phil replied, raising a hand in assurance, and moving faster. He hoped he got to his office before the heat became unbearable. As he walked through the doorway, he saw Steve Rogers turn his head towards him. Phil felt a pang of embarrassment.

_______________________________

Phil stepped into his room and closed his door a little too loudly before locking it. He leaned against a wall as he tried to collect himself. Phil was a beta and had been on heat suppressants for the last several years. Unfortunately betas’ reputation for irregular heats (and his own “advanced” age) made the medication less reliable.

The average heat was perhaps unpleasant, but almost always tolerable even without the help of a beta or alpha. Delaying heats, (as Phil hadn’t gone into heat for at least the last five years) usually led to powerful heats when they resumed. Many betas and omegas kept a ‘heat aid’ with them for the occasional strong heats where a suitable alpha or beta wasn’t around to knot them.

He searched through the draws of his desks. His fingers skimmed against the files at a speed that almost seemed like he had forgotten that their contents could cause the fall of governments. He continued, finding only a box of paperclips, several pens, and a small stack of trading cards with rusty brown stains. “Fuck,” he muttered under his breath before closing the drawer.

There was a knock at the door. His heart dropped. He got up, smoothed his hands over the front of his suit and walked to the door. He opened it just barely, making only his face visible. He hoped that it would obscure the fact his shirt was dripping with sweat.

Steve Roger’s face peered back at him. “Coulson,” There was a lining of worry to his voice. “Is there something wrong?”

“No, there’s nothing wrong. I’m fine, fine….” Phil tried his best to keep his voice even, and failed.

Steve’s eyebrows knit together, perplexed, before his eyes widened a bit in realization. “Coulson,” he scanned the hallway for a moment and quieted his voice, “Are you in heat?”

Phil lost his grip on the doorknob for a moment. He nodded in reply, silent.

Steve tried to peer into his office before asking, “Can I come in?”

Phil opened the door the rest of the way and locked the door once Steve stepped in. Steve glanced around the room. Phil noticed his eyes lingering on a couple items; a vintage S.H.I.E.L.D poster from the 1940’s and a model of a red 1962 Chevrolet Corvette.

“You can sit,” he said before adding a quick “If you want.” Steve took up the offer and sat in one of the two chairs situated in from of his desk. Phil sat in the other and was glad he could get off his feet.

“Is there anyone who could... help you?”  Steve asked, hesitating for a few moments before finishing the question. Phil understood what Steve was talking about.

“S.H.I.E.L.D’s heat release form is rarely used anymore,” he replied, loosening his tie in attempt to cool off. S.H.I.E.L.D implemented the heat release form in the early 60’s. It was like ones implemented in the military and other organizations in previous decades. Beta and omega agents would fill it out, designating another agent who would have permission to knot them in an emergency situation when a heat became too much. Over the last couple decades, they fell out of use. “We have devices to help with that now, but unfortunately,” Phil sighed and leaned back in his chair. “I don’t have any available to me at this moment.”

Steve’s blue eyes continued to contemplate him. Despite the fact his eyes were soft with concern and, perhaps, sympathy, it was difficult for Phil to meet his stare. He regretted Steve showed up in the first place. At this point, suffering alone in his office sounded ever so appealing. That is to say, compared to being a heat-addled mess in front of not only someone he admired and respected, but Captain America of all people. He wasn't sure whether he'd die from his heat first, or embarrassment.

Steve was silent for a long time before asking, tentative, "Would you like me to help?"

Phil blinked rapidly and paused before replying, incredulous. "You mean sex?"

"Yes." Steve replied.

"Sure, I'd love to-" he clamped his mouth shut. Phil was trying to sound grateful, but he was probably just making Steve more uncomfortable. The fact that the era Steve had grown up had different ideas regarding sex likely didn't help in the matter.

"Is there a place where we could...?” Steve gesticulated, prompting him.

"Yes, actually," Phil stood up and touched a spot on the back wall, revealing a keypad. He wiped a hand on his pants before tapping in the passcode. The panel slid out revealing a small room. Phil led Steve in and turned on the switch. There was a cot, a small lamp and a closet whose contents weren't visible. It had a certain kind of lonely sterility to it that came with lack of use.

"I've had to sleep here more than once," Phil mentioned, closing the door. He paused and clarified "For S.H.I.E.L.D. reasons. I don't make it a habit. I actually live somewhere else." He'd rather not Steve come to a pitiful conclusion.

"We're not under surveillance here right?" Steve asked in an almost playful way. This was surprising considering what they were about to do likely violated so much S.H.I.E.L.D. protocol.

"No," Phil smiled. "No, unless there were signs that suspicious activities were going on behind closed doors, I doubt S.H.I.E.L.D would have much interest in watching their agents while they're sleeping."

"Can I take-" Steve asked before Phil replied with a nod.

Steve stripped, first taking off his shirt and revealing his smooth chest, and the excellent musculature of his upper body. He removed his belt before he noticed Phil Coulson had stopped halfway through unbuttoning his suit jacket, and was staring at him. "I'm sorry," Phil said, turning his eyes downward and finishing unbuttoning.

"It's all right," Steve assured. "To be honest, Coulson, at this point I'm used to it."

He simpered, half in relief. "Call me Phil," he said, removing his jacket.

"Call me Steve," he replied, smiling. He took off his shoes and socks.

Phil lamented the fact his suit featured so many layers of clothing. Not only did it make the heat of his skin more uncomfortable, it made disrobing a spectacle. When he finally got off his undershirt, he examined himself and then Steve. He became hyper aware of the fact that, although Phil wasn't in bad shape himself, he faced a man who looked like he was the cover model of _Men's Fitness_. Steve didn't recoil in horror, or anything like that. Phil saw it as a good sign.

Phil had somehow got his pants, and underwear off before Steve did. The wetness dripped down his thighs. He dragged his eyes from Steve’s sturdy shoulders, to the small of his back and what was below as Steve took off his underwear. And he realized he did not owe this exclusively to the mindless arousal of his heat. Steve had a good looking cock. A nice girth, larger than average, but perhaps not the one you would pin to a man who'd been a sex idol for almost half a century.

Phil lied on top of the cot and exhaled hard for a moment. Steve got on as well, and it creaked as Steve crept up above him. “This is fine?” Steve asked him, eyes looking downward on him.

Phil nodded, which fortunately obscured that his slight trembling. “Shouldn’t take long at all.”

Steve’s eyes scanned over Phil's body, and he paused for a moment, pumping his cock a few times to get hard. Phil was desperate to touch him. To trace a line across his chest, hold his lower lip between his teeth, or anything to pretend that this was some “fun” secret rendezvous and that Steve wasn’t just doing this out of a sense of responsibility. But he didn't want to move too fast, to cross lines they hadn't agreed upon yet. He was so close; it was almost painful. Steve pressed his cock, almost teasingly, near his opening.

Phil sighed, "Steve." He had the voice of man dying of thirst shown an oasis. "Please."

He was so wet there was barely any resistance as Steve entered him. The slick heat welcomed Steve’s first experimental thrust. He repeated, deepening as he started a rhythm. Their breaths became leaden and sweet.

Phil cupped Steve’s face, his mind so cloudy with he couldn’t give a damn whether he was acting like a fool, stroking Steve’s smooth cheek with his thumb. Steve looked into his eyes, not having any particularly strong reaction, apparently taking no offense. Phil moved his hand away, and moaned as Steve moved faster. His thrusts became shorter, and more erratic as his knot swelled.

"Steve," Phil said softly. His blood pooled downward, hot and cold teeming at his skin. He came, emptying his lungs, and tightening around the knot inside him.

Steve came shortly after; his seed spilling and the knot ensuring that every last drop stayed inside him. They panted for a bit before returning to their pre-coital lucidity. "You okay?" Steve asked from above him, his body covered with a thin sheen of sweat.

"Yeah," Phil replied. The pair went through the acrobatics of lying on their side while dealing with the knot between them. They both became very interested in the bunker's bare walls for the half hour it took Steve's knot to go down. Phil and Steve could have tried to be casual about it. They could have engaged in small talk or discussion about  S.H.I.E.L.D. But that would have made it even more awkward.

After, they both cleaned up, Steve put his clothes back on. Phil changed into another suit (because, of course, Agent Phil Coulson has a spare suit in the secret bunker behind his office).

"In the next couple of days," Steve took his phone out of his pocket. It still looked out of place in his hands. "If you need anything, just let me know."

They swapped numbers, and Phil thanked him yet again.

Steve left. Phil sat down to work, but was interrupted when it dawned upon him that good God, he had just had sex with Captain freaking America. He stared at a blank wall for about five minutes until the shock dissipated, and spent the rest of the day at his desk doing paperwork.

_______________________________

As he left headquarters, Nick Fury spotted him, and pulled him aside.

"I noticed you left early during the briefing,” he said. His voice was stern, not angry, but wanting a good explanation.

“I was unwell.” Phil explained. It was truthful, but he hoped that Fury didn’t detect his unease. “Temporary thing. I’m fine now, Sir.”

Nick Fury put his hand on Phil’s shoulder. “Just don’t make it a habit.”

Phil was about to exit the building just as Nick Fury called to him.

“Phil.”

“Yes?” he asked, turning back.

“Next time let me know in advance if you’re going to have a sick day.”

Phil smiled, “I don’t have sick days.”

**Author's Note:**

> I hope you enjoyed reading this fanfiction. This fic features the first sex scene I've ever written (omega verse or otherwise)  
> If you liked it, please let me know by giving kudos, bookmarks or commenting (I'm always open to constructive criticism) :)


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